


Fools Rush In

by havisham



Category: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Doom, Filthy Mortal Fetishist Beleg, Frottage, Just Hard Buds In the Woods, Ludicrous Age Differences, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Rough Oral Sex, Tree Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-27
Updated: 2016-11-27
Packaged: 2018-09-02 15:42:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,023
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8673046
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/havisham/pseuds/havisham
Summary: Fools rush in where angels fear to tread
  
  And so I come to you, my love, my heart above my head.
 Beleg and Túrin take a walk in the woods.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Sath](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sath/gifts).



> Hey, happy belated birthday, Sath! Have some doom. ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) 
> 
> Note: Túrin is nineteen or twenty here. Beleriand legal, definitely.

“My dearest Túrin, how much do I wish to wring your scrawny mortal neck,” Beleg said with a smile. 

Túrin looked up and sneered. “Dear Beleg, are you sure your ancient fingers would be able to find the strength to do it?” 

“I’ve killed uglier creatures than you, for far longer than your most distant ancestor could have grasped his --” Beleg began to say, but he interrupted by a loud groan. 

Mablung, who had been trying to sleep, threw a cushion at him and then waited until Beleg brought it back to him. “Could you two take your loud and nonsensical talk elsewhere? Some of us are trying to sleep.” 

“Yes, Beleg,” said Doron, one of the other wardens, “I can understand Túrin’s youthful -- er --” Doron glanced at Túrin’s face, which was as stony as if it was carved. “Vivacity. But surely you are wise enough to know that we must rest for the day ahead.” 

“Worry not,” Beleg said, springing up from his spot by the fire. “Túrin and I shall take a little walk, let you two rest a little. Are you coming, Túrin?” 

Túrin folded his arms across his chest and did not look inclined to move anywhere. Beleg waited for a moment and felt a little foolish. He shrugged and walked away. A few moments later, he heard Túrin following quickly behind, and hid a smile. 

They walked together in silence, letting the cool evening air surround them and the whispering of the trees overhead replace the heat of the campfire. 

Túrin, who had been walking around with his chest puffed up, so proud in his new status as a marchwarden, now allowed himself to slump a little. “They do not like me, Beleg.” 

“Who? Doron? Mablung? Why should Doron’s opinion of you matter in the least? Mablung loves you as I do, I know.” Beleg slung his arm around Túrin’s shoulder. “He was born a crank, you know. A terror to his mother and father, but he is sincere.” 

“I don’t mean that,” said Túrin, pulling away with a sigh. “I feel -- no, I know, they think because I am mortal, I cannot be as strong as they. They are afraid to trust me as they would other wardens. But I know that I am just as skilled -- I only need a chance to prove myself!” 

Beleg knew that Túrin only needed him to nod just then and make some soothing noises to smooth his ruffled feathers. In truth, he was only paying half a mind to Túrin’s words. Túrin was a very passionate young Man, and a rather lonely one. He badly needed a listening ear, more than anything else. 

“... And last week, Mablung and Doron went to fletch arrows. Why would they need to go away to do that? I asked to come, but they would not hear of it. Neither would tell me why, only it was impossible. See how they hate me?” 

“They don’t hate you,” Beleg said, as if by rote. He looked at Túrin, unsure as how to continue. He coughed. “Túrin, you know… living in the woods as we do…” He looked at Túrin hopefully, but Túrin only looked puzzled. 

Beleg sighed, continuing on, “Well, certain needs must be met.”

Túrin only frowned.

“They weren’t fletching arrows,” Beleg said, helpfully. 

“I understand that!” Túrin snapped. He stopped and suddenly pushed himself against a tree trunk. “It’s even worse, then. No one will fletch arrows with me.”

“Oh, Túrin, that isn’t true,” Beleg said, leaning against the tree. “You’re very handsome, for a mortal. I’m sure some young thing --” 

Túrin shook his head, his eyes downcast. “It’s no use, Beleg. They don’t want me.” 

Beleg sighed deeply. He pressed his head against the rough bark of the tree and closed his eyes for a moment, before opening them again and focusing on Túrin. “You know you are handsome, Túrin. Mortal or no.” 

Túrin looked at him, a challenge in his eyes. “Prove it.” 

Beleg considered that Túrin was perhaps less naive than he had assumed. There seemed to be a look of calculation on his face. Never mind that his hand rested, not subtly, on Beleg’s hip.

“Your foster-father would be wroth at me, if he knew I was to make an attempt at your virtue,” Beleg said, with a low voice. 

“He would have no way of knowing,” Túrin said, reaching out and tangling his hand in Beleg’s hair. Beleg shifted closer to him, so they were standing eye-to-eye, cheek to cheek.

“What of your foster-mother? I do not doubt that Queen Melian knows everything that happens in these woods. It is within her power.” 

Túrin gave him an aggrieved look. “Beleg, has anyone told you that you talk too much?” 

“No, never,” Beleg replied, before Túrin kissed him. 

*

Beleg knew very well that it was foolish, to love Túrin in this way -- perhaps it was foolish to love Túrin in any way. But in the years since he had first met Túrin, Beleg had felt a strange shift in himself. He felt the passage of time more sharply now, saw the effects, both good and bad, more baldly. As Túrin grew from a boy to a man, Beleg often thought, _oh, but it is a shame, a shame that I will not be able to keep him._

It was a selfish thought, Beleg knew, and deeply unwise. Though he had little in the way of foresight, Beleg was perfectly aware that Túrin’s fate would lead him far from these woods, and from Beleg too. If only it wasn't so!

“Your mind is wandering, Beleg,” said Túrin reproachfully. “You have stared blankly at that branch for almost five minutes now. Why don’t you pay more attention to me?” 

_“_ Brat,” Beleg said, running his finger along the line of Túrin’s jaw. It was no longer smooth, as it had been in Túrin’s boyhood, or as Beleg’s was now. Instead, stubbly black hair poked through his white skin, giving his lower face a bluish cast. It was fascinating and rare among Elves to have a beard, even ancient ones like Beleg or Thingol. 

If Túrin would let him, Beleg would be content to merely pet his face all through the night (that was a lie, but one Beleg almost believed himself) but even now the impatient son of Húrin cleared his throat and pushed insistently against Beleg. 

“Beleg,” he said sadly, “will you not try to please me?”

An unfair question, as if Beleg could do anything but! 

Still, Beleg grinned as he slid down to the ground, his knees creaking little at the impact. He was rough with Túrin’s clothes, pulling down his breeches enough so that Túrin’s cock, a solid handful, was in his grasp. Túrin was already breathing fast, his eyes enormous, as Beleg bent to inspect his cock a little closer.

He couldn’t just look for long -- Túrin would not allow it, nor did Beleg wish to do so -- not when he could smell that odd and appealing mortal musk that came from Túrin and made Beleg feel a little faint at times with longing. He did not know if other mortals smelled as Túrin did (he did not remember Beren smelling of anything but fear and a body long-unwashed) -- but that was no matter. No one could be as Túrin was -- so young, and fey at times, but still there was something in him that would endure as the stone beneath them would. 

And then there was the fact that he was so very beautiful. Mortal or no, Beleg had never seen such a face before. That beauty was only heightened when Beleg took Túrin’s cock into his mouth -- Túrin’s face flushed red and his shapely mouth fell open too, on its own accord. 

Túrin grabbed a hold a Beleg’s hair and pulled hard, a spark of pain that blossomed easily into pleasure. Beleg did not take his eyes off of Túrin as he sucked, both of his hands working the length of Túrin’s cock and balls until -- all too quickly, in Beleg’s mind -- Túrin spurted come into his mouth and Beleg swallowed it down, licking his lips as he finished. 

Túrin let go of his hair then and pulled him up. They leaned against each other for a long moment, in an embrace, until Beleg realized that he was still painfully hard. Deliberate and slow, Beleg began to rub against Túrin, letting his own covered cock mercilessly frot against Túrin’s flushed and sensitive penis. 

“Beleg,” Túrin gasped, his voice both a plea for mercy and incitement to action. “I -- oh, Beleg, have mercy on me.” 

Beleg kissed and bit against Túrin’s neck and then moved a little upwards, so his lips rasped against the burr of Túrin’s cheeks. He growled, feeling Túrin shudder against him. “Little one, I would fuck you against this tree in a moment if you let me. How’s that for mercy?” 

“Yes,” said Túrin, “do it, I dare you.” 

The silly boy. What else had Beleg ever done but dared?

He did not waste time -- there was so little of it to spare -- though the sky above them was still dark and the woods around them silent save the chirping of some odd bird, too early for dawn. Beleg pushed a finger into Túrin’s mouth and Túrin sucked on it fervently, and fervently too did he kiss Beleg when the latter pulled his finger away. 

A sweet kiss, but soon over, as Beleg flipped him around and briefly palmed Túrin's firm, round buttocks and, giving into temptation, he squeezed and pinched to his heart’s delight. 

“Beleg,” Túrin whined in his throat, arching his back. 

“Yes, yes, I know, I know,” Beleg said, pressing his face against the nape of Túrin’s skin and breathing in deep. 

*

It was a rough coupling, disjointed almost. Túrin did not cry out when he was in pain, and instead goaded Beleg mercilessly forward, and Beleg took his bait, kept pushing until it felt as if they were one being instead of two. 

Túrin was tight and hot around him, felt perfect, was perfect and Beleg knew perfectly well now that whatever was between them, he could as easily stop breathing as he could let Túrin go. 

The thought was enough to make him come, but he fucked Túrin through it, listened to Túrin's groans and whimpers until they stopped. 

Afterward, Beleg cleaned Túrin up as well as he could, while declining Túrin’s offer to do the same for himself. They walked back to camp slowly, lingering here or there to stand together a while, or else to kiss. 

Judging from the color of the sky, they been absent for only an hour, and in the campsite both Doron and Mablung were still in their bedrolls, apparently asleep still. Túrin crawled into his bedroll with a sleepy good night to Beleg and was fast asleep. 

Beleg paced a little ways from the fire pit before he heard a sharp snort. Mablung, who was sitting up in his bedroll, was looking at him with sardonic look on his face. “Why do you torment yourself so, Beleg?” 

“I don't know what you mean,” Beleg said, coming over to Mablung’s bedroll and stealing a blanket from him. Mablung would not let it go, so Beleg ended up sitting on top of it. 

“Beleg. What you pursue will only end in heartbreak for him and for you--” Mablung shook his head.

“Do not tell me what you see,” Beleg said sharply. “I have never wanted to know.” Then, softly, he said, “Mablung, my old friend, do not worry about me. I am perfectly able to handle myself -- I have the experience to see it through.” 

“You may be as old as dirt, but you are also as senseless as a fly when it comes to that boy.” 

“I love him,” Beleg said, with a shrug. Mablung looked like he wanted to reply with something sharp and unforgivable, but eventually decided on saying nothing, only shaking his head, neck bent down.

“As you wish,” Mablung finally said. 

Beleg smiled. “It is as I wish.” 

*

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks as always to my beta, Elleth. You are a shining star in my cosmos.


End file.
